


Serenity of the morning

by TinyBookDragon



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Fluff, Gen, M/M, Sympathetic Deceit Sanders, Trust, Virgil's an early riser, deceit doesn't let anybody touch his scales, flashback to the time i actually had inspiration to write, just a bit maybe, no words are spoken, platonic, poetic prose
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-24
Updated: 2019-10-24
Packaged: 2021-01-02 10:11:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21159956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TinyBookDragon/pseuds/TinyBookDragon
Summary: Virgil wanted to enjoy a quiet morning watiching a sunrise with a cup of tea. What he didn't expect was to see a particular cold snake, and after that it was just some weird impulse which lead to one of the most unusual moments involving the two.





	Serenity of the morning

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by a tumblr post which you can find [here](https://little-introwert.tumblr.com/post/183289752923/my-absolute-favorite-deceit-headcanons-are-that-a).
> 
> i must admit, this was my first fic written back in March, but I still love it and there's not enough anxceit as it is, so I thought why not post it? Do let me know if there are any mistakes as I'm not a native speaker and I might have missed something.

Early hours of the morning found the mindscape drowning in tranquility. First rays of sunshine started to bleed through the windows in the living room, making small particles of dust swimming in the still air look like bits of floaty glitter.

Virgil was used to those quiet moments and he loved them so much. He’s been in this situation enough times to know his way around without stepping on that one creaky piece of floorboard at the very bottom of the stairs or the one just two steps further, the true traitor. If only he knew back when he started coming out of his room this early that others are such heavy sleepers they wouldn’t wake up if there was a nuclear attack, he would not be so scared to wake them when he was first discovering all the little squeaky traps in the house.

Making his way to the kitchen, Virgil basked in the lack of sound, lack of presence of others. There’s a difference between being alone in the commons when everyone is awake and somewhere and being truly alone when everyone is sleeping. It’s hard to explain if you’ve never experienced it.

_Today’s a tea morning_, Virgil decided stepping into the kitchen, going for the kettle instead of the coffee machine. He was awake enough, actually kind of well rested for the first time in a while. And it took less time to make tea than to brew coffee, which came in handy on that particularily chill November morning.

The warmth of the mug transfered instantly onto his cold hands, somehow warming up his whole body even before he took a sip. The steam carried a delicate fruity smell when it hit his face. He chuckled soundlessly, imagining how Patton always does the same, making his gasses go all foggy. He does this on purpose, that guy, but as long as it doesn’t result in an accident, Virgil just finds it endearing.

He moved from leaning on the counter to stand in front of the big window in the main area, waiting to take the first sip until he’s there, watching how the sunrise paints the sky pink.

Those are peculiar, sunrises. Even during summer there’s something cold in them, something that, even though they bring light to the world, doesn’t bring warmth. They paint the sky in pinks and baby blues with hints of gray instead of oranges and red going into deep purple to navy of the night. Morning fog only adds mysterious atmosphere to the whole thing. Shortened vision. Uncertainty. That’s what makes them beautiful, truly beautiful. Never believe when someone says sunrises and sunsets are the same. They’re not. It’s a shame so few people can understand the beauty of sunrises, but yet again, doesn’t it make them more special?

A sound breaks through his thoughtful mind. An unusual thing considering the circumstances. Barely audible steps and… clattering teeth?

Perplexed, Virgil looked around, spotting a figure standing in the entrance, visibly shaking even from his position by the window, with his arms wrapped around himself which clearly didn’t do a lot to help. Virgil was too surprised to move at first, but next second he was putting the half empty mug on the nearest surface and coming closer to the fellow side.

Deceit shouldn’t be wearing only a T-shirt and thin pyjama pants, not in this temperature, not when another thing beside his scales that made him resemble a snake was how quickly and how easily he got cold. So why was he there, in this cold, wearing barely anything?

His head was down, he looked like he would fall asleep standing, so it was a good thing that he was leaning on the doorframe. Was he sleepwalking? That was not something he ever used to do, as long as Virgil knew him, it never happened. And because of who he was Virgil spent too much time awake when he shouldn’t be to notice at some point if something like that was meant to happen.

For the next thing he did, he had no explanation for. Was it just instinct? An impulse?

He reached out his hand and touched Deceit’s cheek. He was ready for the shorter man to flinch away instantly, fully awake and glaring daggers in his direction before storming away, but that was not what happened. No, not at all. He actually leaned into the touch, silencing alarm bells ringing in Virgil’s head with the wave of shock the action resulted in. A quiet hum could be heard on the side of the embodiment of deception.

What… was happening?

Deceit would always back away if anyone as much as got near his face, especially those scales which were firmly pressed against Virgil’s palm in that moment. Everyone just knew they were sensitive so he was protective over it, being let to touch them was a serious act of trust on his side… And he never let anyone. He didn’t trust anyone enough. For Virgil, it almost felt like he was taking advantage of him because he looked so sleepy, but it was Deceit we are talking about. He was alert even while sleeping.

Maybe it was just an insight to what he was really like under all the lies. Aren’t lies a way of protecting oneself? A bad way, but you cope as you can. If you act long enough, soon you start believing your part is a truth…

A gentle, absent-minded caress of Virgil’s thumb was all it took to break the moment. It was a movement he made purely unconsciously, but it was enough to shake the other side back to the present and to do what he was predicted to do in the first place - he flinched away, suddenly looking startled. No surprise.

Virgil wanted to say something, that it was okay or whatever, but decided against. This didn’t need any explanations or words. Deceit collected himself with practiced ease, acting like he wasn’t just nuzzling the hand of the other just because it had the added warmth of a hot mug still lingering under his skin beside his own.

He huffed and spun around, walking away without a world. It was a morning of unique moments, it seemed. Just before he neared a corner Virgil catched him rubbing his cheek, not exactly in the way someone would to figuratively get rid of the feeling.

It was not like most morning Virgil spent in front of the window watching the sun slowly emerging behind the horizon, but he couldn’t even bring himself to be the least bit frustrated that he missed it.

**Author's Note:**

> Search up @little-introwert on tumblr if you want to have a chat! hope you enjoyed!


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